“This gentleman told no one of the occurrence until after he had left the house, no doubt in order that the place should not acquire an evil reputation. Most of the original furniture remained, and Mr. Maddison took the house furnished. I don’t think there can be any doubt that what killed him was fear at seeing a repetition—”
“Of the fiery hand?” concluded Smith.
“Quite so. Well, I examined the Gables pretty closely, and, with another Scotland Yard man, spent a night in the empty house. We saw nothing; but once, very faintly, we heard the ringing of bells.”
Smith spun around upon him rapidly.
“You can swear to that?” he snapped.
“I can swear to it,” declared Weymouth stolidly. “It seemed to be over our heads. We were sitting in the dining-room. Then it was gone, and we heard nothing more whatever of an unusual nature. Following the death of Mr. Maddison, the Gables remained empty until a while ago, when a French gentleman, name Lejay, leased it—”
“Furnished?”
“Yes; nothing was removed—”
“Who kept the place in order?”
“A married couple living in the neighborhood undertook to do so. The man attended to the lawn and so forth, and the woman came once a week, I believe, to clean up the house.”